


Caged

by HadesWings



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Depressed!Eren, M/M, Obsession, Yandere!Levi, slight non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4752374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadesWings/pseuds/HadesWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren lived day to day. Everything was always a blur and, when he actually did take his medication, nothing mattered. Then there was Levi, who believed that nothing mattered but Eren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be clear and direct when I say that this work will be sad as well as happy. I have tagged it so far, and I will tag it as I go along. If you see anything in the tags that you do not like. **STOP** , Press the little left arrow icon on whatever browser you are using, and pick a different story. I promise, if you stay, that it is worth the story.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Attack On Titan or it's characters.

Rain. 

It’s hideous.

The dull drumming of my heart resounds noisily within the recess of my mind in almost perfect harmony with the beating of the rain against the already slickened pavement. I watch absentmindedly as the thick droplets descend down from the dreary sky and break against the ground in a multitude of rivulets. The pooling rainwater reflects rainbow as it mixes with oil from the cars parked idly in spaces nearby. Disgusting. 

I barely recognize my voice when it’s called the first time, knocking me out of my inattentive state of mind. My eyes flicker in the direction of the owner of the voice, but I make no move to turn myself away from my gaze out the window. A raven eyebrow cocks itself, and a pale hand rests on her cocked hip and she stares at me in question.

“Back to the land of the living?” She asks, a worried look crossing over her features. “Your break ended ten minutes ago.”

She doesn’t press it anymore, but I can feel the scolding tone of her words and I hope that my skin tone does justice in hiding the heat that races up my neck. I open my mouth, as if going to respond to her, but instead bow my head in a small nod. I spare one more glance out the window, eyebrows scrunching up, and I sigh deeply before finally pushing myself up off of the small table. 

“Sorry,” I grumble as I pick up my discarded white apron from the table top. I loop it around my neck and have her tie the back for me, she is always finicky about it being in a neat bow, it attracts more customers if we don’t have sloppy uniforms. 

“Are you alright, Eren?” She asks as I turn around, but she doesn’t give me room to respond, she has one hand already pressed against my forehead and the other smoothing down my apron. “You’re a bit warm, and you’re red. Do you feel feverish?” 

I slap her hand away gently and glare at her. “M’fine, ‘Kasa, just tired.”

“You need to get more sleep, staying up late at night isn’t doing you good, make sure you’re taking your pills. I know how you get when you skip them,” She insists, her lips curling down in a frown. I roll my eyes and walk around her towards the counter.

“Alright, _mom_ ,” I say sarcastically as I slip behind the counter, making my way to Armin who sits hunched over the cash register on his stool. She scowls at me, following close behind. Armin greets us solemnly. 

“It’s such a slow day,” He groans, laying his face on the counter and staring drowsily up at us. “We’ve barely had twenty customers today.” 

We’re always slow when it storms, especially during the winter, it’s too cold and wet to go out just to eat in a cafe. We get the occasional ringing of the door opening, but it’s mostly people escaping from the rain getting a bit too harsh, they don’t even order anything, they just sit down at an empty table and wait for it to lighten up before going back into the hell again. 

I don’t particularly mind, it’s less tables to clean and less people to deal with. 

“We should just close up early on days like these,” I sigh, leaning on the counter beside him. “No point in staying open if no one is going to come in. We’re just wasting energy leaving the appliances on.”

Armin groans in agreement, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“If Hannes was in today he’d skin you both for saying that,” Mikasa scolds. “Besides, maybe one of the few stragglers who come in will order something while they dry off. You never know.” 

If I had to guess, I would say that is probably the thirteenth time she’s said something along those lines this past month. Winter and Shiganshina just don’t mix. It’s not cold enough for snow, but it’s cold enough for freezing rain, and lots of it. 

We’re lucky that we even meet our quota, which is set low enough as is, with the amount of people that come in. 

It seems like hours before the bell tied to the door finally jingles, and when it does Armin shoots up in his chair as if he’d just been injected with pure adrenaline. I carelessly glance up from my slouch over the counter, eyes shifting over the stranger, because I highly doubt that they’re a customer, as they step inside the cafe.

His hair is wet from the rain. It’s almost as dark as Mikasa’s and a hell of a lot shorter. His bangs and hair reaches down just below his eyes, with a trimmed undercut. It’s styled nicely and falls right back into place after he runs a hand through the wet strands. He ignores the three of us leaning over the counter and makes his way to a secluded table to the far right. I watch in mild interest as he unbuttons the front of his coat and shrugs it off, laying it beside him as he slides into the booth.

I wasn’t aware of my staring until he gazes in our direction and I catch his cold almost glare. I quickly jerk my head down in awkward embarrassment. Mikasa elbows me in the side and jerks her head in the newcomer’s direction.

“Get to work,” She smiles, reaching down to ruffle my hair. I roll my eyes and grab my notepad and pen from the counter before making my way over to the secluded table. The man is now occupied with his phone, tapping away at the screen when I approach. He has pale skin, paler than Mikasa’s even, and sharp features. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows which rest on top of the tabletop while he texts. 

“Hello, my name is Eren, I’ll be your waiter for the evening, can I get you anything?” I ask in the most polite tone I can manage with a forced smile etched across my face. His eyebrows stitch together and his eyes flicker up to catch mine, they’re a stormy grey, doing little to hide whatever irritation he had. 

“I’m just here to get out of the rain,” He says finally, after staring at me for few silent seconds. His voice is rough, baritone, and it holds a sense of arrogance to it. He places his phone face down on the table and turns his full attention to me. I shiver when his eyes rake down my body, but just as quickly as they had left my eyes, they were back to staring into them. I swallow thickly around the lump in my throat and let out a breathy laugh to ease the tension that had suddenly risen out of nowhere. 

“You’re not the first. Well, if you need anything just yell for me.” 

I quickly turn on my heels after shoving my notepad into the front pocket of my apron, to make my way back to the counter and rid myself of the awkward tension when he calls out to me.

“Tea.” 

I spin around to find him looking at me expectantly. He crosses his arms on the table, drumming his fingertips against it noisily. 

“Pardon?” I ask, confused as to what he wanted and his sudden change of heart.

“Tea, the best that you have to offer. Two cubes of sugar and a bit of milk,” he orders before fixing his gaze back onto his phone, picking it back up and going back to typing. 

“Right. I’ll bring it over shortly,” I tell him, receiving a grunt in response. I don’t know if it’s the utter detachment to his voice, or the way his eyes seemed to linger and watch me but I found myself incredibly put off and uncomfortable with the man.

I retreat back behind the counter quickly and give Mikasa the order, she looks happy that at least someone ordered something today and quickly sets to making it. I go to Armin while I wait. He looks at me with an arched eyebrow.

“He’s weird,” I murmur silently so that only Armin could hear me. 

“You think everyone you don’t know is weird,” Armin defends with a small smile. Before I can protest, Mikasa is back and handing me the steaming cup of tea on a saucer with a big smile. I groan inwardly, plastering the fake smile back across my face before taking the saucer and walking back towards the strange man. He peels his eyes away from his phone as he sees and takes to watching my approach and as I set the tea cup in front of him, eyeing my movements like he expects me to suddenly trip and spill the steaming liquid all over him. 

“Here you go, two sugar cubes and a bit milk!” I say as cheerfully as I can manage. He stares at the cup with a disgruntled expression as I set it down on the table.

“I thought that you’d be the one making it,” He says so casually, as if it were forbidden for anyone else to do so. I feel my own eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as I take in what he had just said.

“No, I just take and deliver the orders, my sister is the one who makes them,” I say, a small frown tugging at the corners of my lips. “Is that an issue?”

“So she’s your sister?” He asks, avoiding my question and instead pocketing his cell phone and grabbing the teacup by the it’s rim, lifting it up to his lips without even blowing to cool the steaming liquid before taking a large gulp of it. 

“Mikasa? Yeah,” I answer him. I feel extremely uncomfortable, but he is the only person to have actually bought something today. Maybe Armin is right and I’m judging him a bit too hard, maybe he did have a stressful day at work and he’s just trying to blow off steam and relax while he dries off. The bags under his eyes are suddenly a lot more noticeable and I feel a bit of guilt weigh my stomach down. Maybe he’s just lonely and is trying to strike up of conversation? I get that way sometimes, especially without my medication. 

“Hmm,” He hums, taking another sip of the tea before setting it down on the table. “And the blonde one?” 

“That’s Armin, he’s a friend who helps us with management, but today he’s our back-up cashier because our normal one called in sick.” I find myself telling him. He takes in the information and nods his head curtly. 

“Shitty,” He jokes tonelessly. 

“Maybe it’s just the rain though. No one want to work on gloomy days like these.” I shift awkwardly in place and take a glance out the window. It’s still raining pretty hard, but it’s lightened up noticeably. 

“You don’t like the rain?” The question takes me off guard. Who would like the rain, especially storms like these, around these parts? Little showers and sprinkles are nice to appreciate and are good stock for photographers, but when it’s pouring down like hell every other day and you don’t see the sun for a good week due to the coverage of clouds, you grow a little spiteful of it.

“Not in particular. It’s sad. Everything is dark, cold and wet. There’s no life to it.”

He’s silent after that, for a moment, I see a flicker of emotion cross over his face, but he quickly pulls himself back together and his emotionless persona is back in check. 

“Who’s idea was the apron?” Is the next question he ask. I’m somewhat grateful for the subject change. 

“Mikasa’s. Our actual manager is into girly shit, so he agreed to it pretty quickly. I prefered the dress shirt to be honest, pink ribbons and frills just aren’t my thing,” I complain. He looks me over again, eyes starting at my worn out sneakers and traveling up my khaki pants, to the frill hem of the apron and up my slim upper half, lingering a bit at the expanse of my neck to my swollen lips -I have a nasty habit of chewing them when stressed- before finally resting on my eyes once more. And then his lips quirk up almost into a smile. 

“I think it is.”

For a moment, I think my heart stopped beating, another shiver racing up my spine but this time it’s definitely from panic. Blood rushes to my face in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and I smile as best as I can before nodding my head. 

_Don’t be rude. Don’t be rude. It’s not worth it. Mikasa will chew you out._ I repeat those lines like a mantra in my head.

“Will that be all?” I grind out, still managing to sound somewhat polite and sincere. His smirk doesn’t leave as he turns back to his tea, lifting it once again to his lips.

“For now, I suppose.”

“Pay at the register when you’re finished.” I drop the bill down next to his tea and then make a complete one eighty spin without so much as sparing him a glance.

I walk away, aware of those dark irises roving over my body with that inscrutable expression still in tact. Yet when I walk back behind the counter, Armin and Mikasa were chatting normally, as if the stranger wasn’t off-setting in any way. 

I'm not called back over to his table, thankfully, nor does he stare at me or even spare a glance in my direction for the remainder of his stay. He taps away at his cell-phone with one hand while he leans back in his seat and drinks his tea with his other. It's unnerving. 

Sure, I’ve had men and women hit on me before, but they never just stopped. They’d pursue it throughout their stay, even going as far as to give me their phone number, funny considering how usually it’s portrayed in movies and such as being the other way around. But I have never, not once, had someone flirt with me and then proceed to blatantly ignore my presence for the rest of their stay. 

Is he mocking me? Teasing me? Either way it has my stomach twisting and eyebrows scrunching in anger and uncertainty. 

I should be _glad_ that someone like him is ignoring me; we’re on totally different leagues, he’s a hell of a lot older than me, and I am fairly certain that I’m straight. But it frustrates me because I can’t get my head around him and his actions. A part of me wants to march back over to his table and get his attention and question him on his abnormal behavior, but it’s not worth the fight or argument that could occur after, Mikasa would skin me alive.

When he finishes his tea, he slides his phone back into his pocket casually and stands up. His coat iss slipped back on and buttoned all the way up to his neck and he silently walks towards the cash register while fishing in his wallet for a few stray bills. 

I feign interest in wiping down the counter as he approaches. Armin takes his money happily, and slides me the five dollar tip while bidding him a good evening in an all too chirpy voice. 

“Have a great day and come visit us again soon!” Mikasa calls out after him as he heads for the front doors. He doesn’t respond, or even shows that he had even heard her, not that he probably cared in the first place. He just leaves.

I don’t know why, but I feel compelled to watch him, even after he’s already gone. 

He makes no move to cover his head from the rain, he walks uncaringly in it. He patiently waits for the green man to signal so that he can cross the crosswalk, before making his way to a parked black Bentley with heavily tinted windows. He disappears inside the driver’s side, before the car turns on and peels away from the curb, merging with traffic and disappearing. 

_“I’m just here to get out of the rain.”_

His words repeat in my head. But why would someone in a car need to escape from the rain? When he very well could have just driven home to begin with? 

“Quit staring off into space, Eren,” Armin says, swatting me on the back of the head. He’s back to his gloomy and cranky self now that our one and only customer has left. I rub the spot and glare at at him angrily. 

“That guy was creepy,” Mikasa chimes in beside me, her face scrunched up in thought. “Who the hell orders tea and nothing else?”

“He was hot though,” Armin confesses. 

“Yeah,” I sigh, agreeing to both.


	2. Euphoria

It’s around eight o’clock when Mikasa finally calls quits and we close the cafe down early. We’d only had two other people come in after the weird raven haired man had left, and after that everything was dead. 

The rain had slowed down to nothing but a drizzle that drums silently against my umbrella as I walk down the slick sidewalk. The cold, winter air tickles at my pink nose in an uncomfortable way that has me pulling my scarf up higher around my face. 

I don’t live that far away from the cafe, maybe a five minute walk at most. And I don’t have the money for a car, not that I can park it in the cramped parking lot of my apartment complex, and even if I could the crime rate around these parts are higher than I’d like to test. 

Besides, walking never hurt anyone. But it sure as hell has you rushing up your stairs to get in the warm, dry comfort of your home when you finally reach it. 

I live on the third floor of four, my apartment is small, one bedroom, with a bathroom, kitchen, and small little living room when you first walk in. It’s nothing glorious, but it’s manageable. When I open the door I quickly flick on the lights, a part of me nervous that someone would be standing there, waiting for me, but the only thing waiting for me is the cable bill that I left on my coffee table this morning. 

I shrug off my winter coat and tug off my scarf, hanging both on the rack beside the door. My umbrella is placed against the wall on a towel so that It can drip dry and be ready for tomorrow morning. 

After heating up a cup of ‘gourmet’ ramen for dinner, I slump back against my couch, flicking the tv on and slurping absent minded at the steaming noodles. My phone vibrates in my pocket, more than likely Mikasa telling me to go to bed or to make sure I set my alarm. Even after I moved out from her shared apartment with Annie, her long term girlfriend, she still has a habit of riding up my asscrack and mothering me. 

I hold my ramen with one hand, eyes still trained on the TV screen and news anchor who is talking animatedly about the construction of the new overpass on the highway, and use the other hand to grab my phone. I tap on the screen and it lights up with the text on the front. 

**Mikasa:** _Make sure you take your medication tonight._

A sigh leaves me as I read the text and if I could slump any lower into my couch without disappearing between the cushions, I would. I set my ramen down on the table, my stomach now churning in discomfort and the need to eat quickly gone at the notion of my medicine, and force myself up off the couch before padding into my bedroom and entering the bathroom conjoined to it. 

I step before the sink and stare into the mirror cabinet just long enough to take in my reflection. Tousled mocha hair that looks like it needs a good shampoo, dark bags hang under my viridian eyes, and my skin clings to my bones with a sickly looking tint. 

I jerk the cabinet open in a quick movement, reaching inside and grasping the orange pill bottle. My stomach twists as I pop one in my hand. I contemplate dumping the entire bottle into the toilet, and watch as the small little white tablets spin down to the sewers. 

I hate taking the medicine, I hate feeling so attached to it, and I hate that I need it, but, I hate feeling like _me_ when I don’t take it more. So I take it. I swallow the one pill dryly, cap the bottle and replace it in the cabinet where it will be waiting for and taunting me tomorrow. 

It doesn’t take long for it to kick in. Euphoria washes over me. It’s like you’re constantly tasting chocolate, and _nothing_ else matters. My shoulder slump uncaringly, a sloppy grin etches itself on my face, and I forget _everything_. 

I forget that I hate the medicine, I forget that I hate Mikasa’s mothering, overbearing habit, I forget about the dreadful rain pounding against my window, I forget about my shitty job, and I forget about the stranger with the stormy grey eyes. 

When I take my medicine, I’m not me. I’m happy, I’m airy, and I can sleep without their faces haunting me. When I take my medicine, I’m the old me again. 

And I hate myself so much for it. When I wake up in the morning, I’ll remember what a piece of shit I am. I’ll check my phone to see Mikasa’s daily text to take my morning medicine. I’ll hate myself for needing it. And I’ll hate myself even more for taking it. 

But for now, I don’t care. Everything is good. And as I flop down on my sheets, not caring enough to even slide under my thick comforter, as the sweet euphoric embrace of sleep takes me. 

_Everything_ is beautiful.

* * *

“Eren this place is a dump,” Mikasa chides me, picking up a pair of discarded pants from my floor and tossing them in my laundry hamper. I grumble from underneath the pillow I had tossed over my head the second she came storming into my apartment. She has the spare key and takes joy in barging into my home unannounced. She told me it was because she worries about me, I think it’s because she’s afraid I’ll try and off myself. 

“Get up, lazy bones, it’s almost noon,” She orders me, leaning over my bed to flip the blinds open. I groan louder and tighten the pillow over my head to shield my eyes from the invading sunlight. “You didn’t answer my texts.” 

“Maybe because I was asleep?” I retort back, submitting to the inevitable and forcing myself up. I kick my legs off the bed and stare up at her. 

“I cleaned up your kitchen and livingroom, but the bathroom is all yours,” She smiles, plopping down beside me and reaching up to straighten out my hair. I move away from her in irritation.

“You don’t have to clean up my messes, I’m a capable adult, you know.” 

“I know, but it’s less for you to do.” 

I sigh and stand up, stretching my arms above my head and groaning as my back pops. 

“Are you hungry?” She asks, standing up and moving to straighten out my bed. 

“A little, but I’m going to go take a shower first and change out of my work clothes,” I answer her, heading towards my bathroom. 

“Leave your dirty clothes in the hamper, I’ll run it down to the laundromat while you shower and I’ll make us some lunch.” 

I want to yell and snap at her that I can do my own damn laundry, I’m not some broken little child that can’t pick up after himself, but I nod my head solemnly and begin to strip as she leaves my room, doing as she asked. 

“And, Eren,” She calls out from the other side of the door. “Don’t forget to take your medicine.” 

The hot water feels nice against my cool skin, it hurts, but it’s worth it. The steam billows upward and fogs up the cheap fake glass of my shower. I sigh in relief as I scrub myself down. The hot water and steam do nice in easing the stress out of my muscles and it almost pains me to have to get out of the shower. It would be nice if I could just sit under the hot stream for hours, not caring about the world outside. But I can hear Mikasa banging around in my kitchen, trying to make some form of lunch with whatever food I have in my refrigerator. 

I force myself out, not so much as sparing my reflection a glance as I grab my towel off the rack beside the mirror. I run the cloth through my dripping hair, scrubbing it until it is somewhat dry. I should take my pill like Mikasa had insisted, but I can’t find it in me to care. I pull on a pair of loose grey sweats and sweater before making my way out into my living room with a forced smile. 

Mikasa smiles at me happily from her perch on my couch, two steaming bowls of ramen and a plate with two sandwiches laid out on the coffee table in front of her. She pats the cushion beside her for me to sit next to her. I plop down and immediately dig into the food. 

“You should buy more food than ramen, you can only live off of it for so long,” She suggests, digging into her own bowl. 

“I don’t really have time to fix gourmet recipes,” I respond around a mouthful of noodles. “How’re you and Annie doing?” 

I don’t actually give a shit about their relationship. In a way it makes me envious. To be in love with someone, to have that attachment and be able to lean on them. It’s one of the reasons why I moved out in the first place, not that Annie particularly like my depressing presence there to begin with.

“Pretty good. We recently got a kitten, named him Bert,” she informs me with a bright smile. 

“Oh that’s nice,” I lie, reaching for a sandwich and biting into it hungrily. 

“He gets along surprisingly well with Reiner,” She continues on, taking a large spoonful of ramen in her mouth. 

“Who?” I ask, leaning on my hand and slurping noisily as I eat another spoonful myself. 

“Reiner?” She repeats the name in disbelief and stares at me as if it would somehow ring a bell before sighing deeply. “My dog, Eren.” 

“Oh.” 

I should have remembered that, considering I was the one who helped her pick out the puppy from the litter that Armin’s grandfather’s dog had, but I don’t remember her naming it Reiner. Who the hell names a dog Reiner in the first place. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She questions with a frown. 

“I’m fine, Mikasa.”

“What do you have planned for today?”

I lift the ramen bowl to my lips and slurp down the rest of its juices, setting the bowl down on the table and wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeves before answering her.

“What I do every day I have off.”  
“So, sit around on your couch and watch TV?” She answers with a scowl. 

“Occasionally I take pride in taking a jog around the block when there is nothing on.”

“Eren, there is more to life than work and TV, why don’t you come with me and Annie to the mall today? I’m sure she’d be happy to have you tag along,” She suggests, setting her half-way full bowl down gently. 

“And be a third wheel? As exciting as that sounds, I’m sure Annie would much prefer it if I stay home,” I hiss in response. 

“Eren you know that-”

“Mikasa, as endearing as it is, I don’t want to intrude on you or Armin’s social life. I appreciate the sentiment but please stop. I get enough of you calling me every other hour to make sure I don’t off myself the last thing that I fucking need is-”

The slap comes so quick that I don’t even have time to register it before she’s off the couch and in my face, face beat red from anger and frustration. 

“What do you want me to do, Eren? Sit around all day knowing that you’re sitting in this god forsaken apartment, wallowing in your own misery? Don’t you think for a second that I don’t suffer too. I thought that by getting an apartment you’d go out more, maybe find someone,” She fumes, jabbing her finger in my direction. “But I was wrong, and all I ever think about is you not showing up for work one day and finding you here, dead on the floor. Do you know how scary that is? I care about you so much and all you ever do is brush me off like I’m some annoying thorn in your side. Well sorry for fucking caring.”

“M-mikasa wait,” I call out, cradling my cheek with my hand and moving to stand up as she hurriedly grabs all of her things, stomping for the door. 

“No, I’m tired of watching you torture yourself, if you want to rot away then be my guest.”

The door slams shut behind her.

My face stings, and my heart throbs inside my chest, pounding against my rib-cage painfully. I rush to my bathroom, wiping hastily at my cheeks and jerking my cabinet open. I take two of the pills and slump to the tiled floor, face in my hands sobbing like a pathetic child. 

I cry like a worthless little kid because that’s what I am. I stupid child who hurts everyone around him with his tantrums. 

The medicine kicks in quickly and everything's a blur.  
I don’t know how long I lie there on the cold tiled floor. But when I come to, it’s dark and freezing inside my house. I’m laying face first on the floor and my mouth feels disgusting and stuck together. I slowly move to get up, groaning as my head throbs from the sudden movement. I don’t feel like moving and walking to the kitchen so I cradle my head and slurp water noisily from the bathroom faucet.

I check my phone for any messages or missed calls. There is none from Mikasa but a few from Armin and one from Hannes. I drag myself out of the bathroom. I should call her and apologize but a part of me is screaming at me, yelling at me that there is no point. 

I’m worthless. All I do is hurt her. I’m just a pain in her side. A reminder. 

I toss on my jacket, grab my headphones and shove them in my ears. I shove my phone and keys into my pocket and run outside. I run away from my thoughts, from the past and from what had happened.

The cold air rushes past me, cutting into my cheap sweater and causing goosebumps to raise on my skin. My sneakers pound against the cement sidewalk and my heart drums in my ears. My lungs burn for oxygen as I weakly try to control my breathing through my nose as I jog. 

Lana Del Rey sings in my ear lowly from my earbuds as I pass the plethora of houses under the dim glow of the street lights. The muscles in my legs scream in protest from the exercise of my nightly jog, well, nightly being on nights that it doesn’t rain. During the winter it’s more of a weekly jog than nightly, and that’s if I’m lucky.

I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, probably Mikasa or Armin calling in to check on me. I ignore it. If there is one thing I don’t want to think about right now, it’s them. I try and forget everything but the lyrics of the song while I jog, letting it consume me. 

As I reach my apartment building again, I’m panting for breath, sweat collecting across my forehead and body aching to just be laid down to got to sleep. I lean against the side of the building, pressing my forehead against the cool material as I try to catch my breath. My sneakers are slightly wet from the still damp sidewalk.

There isn’t a cloud in the night sky, only the speckled blackness and crescent moon. It’s beautiful, better than the gloomy hell that usually greets me every night. I take a moment to catch my breath and admire the sky, turning around and leaning my back against the brick wall. I tug my earbuds carelessly out of my ear and wind them around my neck.

It’s silent, except for my gasps for breath and the occasional breeze rustling the leaves that had managed to stay on the trees. I sigh and let my eyes slip closed for a brief moment, taking in the moist night air. 

When I was little, my mother told me that the stars were wishes that people would make, and that every time you saw one fall it’s because the wish came true. As a child I made so many wishes, staring up at the sky in hope that one day I would see one fall. But none would fall, the clouds would cover the sky and obscure my vision, and my wishes never came true, no matter how desperately I pleaded and sobbed. 

The only thing that wishes are good for is instilling false hope in the minds of children. 

My phone buzzes again in my pocket, snapping me out of my moment of melancholy. I sigh and shove my hand within my sweats, fishing for the buzzing phone and jerking it out, squinting against the harsh light and reading the name across the screen. Mikasa, again. 

I jerk out the cord to my headphones and swipe to the right, holding the phone up against my ear.

“What.” 

“Eren.” 

I know that detached, emotionless voice from anywhere. 

“Hello, Annie. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Mikasa was too nervous to call. She came home a wreck so I took the liberty of calling you myself,” She says in a matter of fact tone. “So should I kick your ass or are you going to apologize for whatever the fuck you’ve done this time?” 

This time. Her words hurt and I clench my fists, taking a deep breath. 

“Tell her I’m sorry and that it’s okay,” I say, gnawing at my lower lip. 

“You tell her tomorrow at work,” She responds with a sigh. “You sound out of it, you alright?”

“I just got done jogging, just a little cold.”

“Get inside, dumbass, it’s too cold and wet for you to be out. You’ll catch pneumonia.” 

“If only I were that lucky,” I joke dryly. “Goodbye, Annie.” 

I hang up on her before she can respond and lean back against the wall, tossing my head against it painfully. I don’t need Mikasa or Annie telling me what to do with my life and it angers me because I know they’re right, I should apologize to Mikasa. I should do something with my life. I run my hand across my face and through my hair. I feel like crying and screaming at everything, like tossing my body against the brick wall until it stops hurting. But I need to get inside and out of the cold.

I move to walk towards the stairs but something catches my eyes. If it weren’t for the dim streetlight reflecting off of the side mirrors, I wouldn’t have noticed it before. 

Across the street, parked right up against the curb with other cars is a black car. I rack my brain for why the car would seem so familiar to me and stare at it in confusion. I’m fairly certain that no one within my complex could afford a Bentley like that one. When I finally realize where I recognize the car from my blood runs cold and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on ends. 

I remember that eerie smile and nonchalant voice. ‘I’m just here to get out of the rain’

I shiver and quickly make my way towards the stairs, grabbing for my keys in haste and unlocking my door in record time. I make sure all of my locks are locked and in place before closing all of my blinds and flopping down on my couch. 

I want to think that there is no plausible way that that car is his. But I’ve never seen a Bentley parked around my complex, much less around town. It could be that maybe he recently moved here. But I can’t get his smile out of my head. The way his eyes roved over me. I flop down on my couch and pull my legs up to my chest, resting my chin on my knees and wrapping my arms around my legs protectively. 

Maybe I’m finally going crazy and hallucinating. 

I lie down on the couch after turning off my lamps and turn on the TV to some random channel with some anime about talking clothes and screaming girls on. And as I start to doze off, I swear I hear the sound of clothes rustling in movement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any contradictions or errors please point them out.


End file.
